If You Give A Supe A Paycheck
by dellaxstreet
Summary: The Continuing Adventures of Darcy Lewis, Professional Superhero Cat Herder. Featuring: The Avengers secretly being five, badass ladies, companionable snark, sudden appearances by Deadpool, and much more.
1. Shiny, Let's Tase Bad Guys

"Lewis. _Lewis._ Little Miss Stacked-And-Sarcastic. What the hell is going on here?"

Darcy looked up from where she had her feet unapologetically sprawled across the common room's coffee table and batted her eyelashes in Tony's direction, offering her best innocent face. She happened to know that this face worked on all but the most cynical of mortals, and a couple of Asgardians too. It was the face of a wide-eyed, earnest young thing who had taken her lessons in sincerity from Captain America himself.

It was also complete and total bullshit, which was beside the point. Tony should be willing to listen anything she said, not glaring at her with narrowed eyes and looking very much like he was a ten-year-old in a much older man's body. And okay, to be fair, he looked like that a lot.

"You are so much better looking than the Crypt Keeper, Tin Man!" chirped the mercenary draped across their sofa beside her. He cut quite a figure, with half a slice of pie settled on the plate in his hand and his fork halfway to a mouth revealed below where his mask was peeled back. The red and black color scheme also kind of stood out.

Darcy blinked at the non sequitur, but didn't comment. It seemed like half the things Wade said were the result of a dozen connecting points of conversation inside his head, all of which he'd leapt between on his own since the last thing whoever he was talking to had said.

As long as you were willing to accept that he'd just jumped from Point A to Point R, without bothering to explain Points B through Q, he was actually a lot of fun.

"Deadpool. Deadpool is sitting in the middle of Avengers Tower, and you didn't tell anyone? Where did you even get pizza? Why is he sitting here hanging out with you? You're supposed to raise the alarm when crazy people show up, Betty Boop!" Tony was still staring, like if he focused hard enough, he could will the situation back into making sense to him.

Wade snickered. "I can almost hear the Daleks shrieking!"

Cutting her eyes sidelong, Darcy smirked at him. She finally knew what Point B through Point Q were. "Explaaaaain, explaaaaain," she droned, in an imitation of their trademark hysterical monotone.

Stuffing an entire slice of the other kind of pie down his throat like somebody who never had to worry about choking hazards, the mercenary's grin grew to almost Grinch-like proportions. When combined with the rough scar tissue that covered his exposed skin, it made him look positively deranged. "I knew I made the right choice not shooting you! Elizabeth, you're the pineapple to my pizza, the cherry to my pie!"

The expression on Tony's face pretty much consisted of what she imagined would happen if somebody's head neared explosion point, but they developed an eye twitch instead. "Pineapple on pizza?! Sacrilege! I'm demoting you from Favorite Intern status, Lewis."

Pointedly picking a piece of the offending fruit up off her own slice and popping it into her mouth, she began to chew, making exaggerated 'mmm' noises until it was gone. Then she cocked an eyebrow. "First of all, that compliment still means nothing, because I'm your only intern. Second of all, pineapple on pizza is fucking delicious, so how dare you. Third… I'm the only person around here aside from the terrifying Russian with normal self-care skills, how did you think I managed to feed you all the time? Plus, pizza delivery people like me better."

Wade cackled. "Hot meat delivered straight to your doorstep! _Oh my_!"

Darcy should probably have taken pity on Tony, and actually given him an explanation. But she was having way too much fun watching his facial expression contort to fit all of the newly arrived emotions as he tried to process the mindfuck which was spending time around Wade W. Wilson. He looked like he couldn't decide if he was outraged, confused, annoyed, royally ticked off, or some version of all of the above.

Not knowing whether or not Deadpool was kidding about the attempted murder seemed to also be at war with the obvious reality of their current position. Not to mention the fact that Darcy had helped steal the last of that strawberry rhubarb pie Foggy had given them, and she was not sorry at all, but the head honcho of the Science Bros might decide to fight her over the honor of his desserts if he realized.

"How would I know when to yell at Jarvis about crazy people showing up?" she said instead, delivering the death blow this time. "You're all crazy. Literally the only sane person around here is Dr. Jekyll, and that's because I think he probably overindulges in yoga."

In a stage whisper, even as he leaned over her to reach the nearest pizza box, Wade added, "Getting sweaty and naked about fitness is the way to go!"

Darcy blinked again. "Yeah, I think Mr. Hyde might not appreciate extreme sweat lodge yoga. One wrong stretch and the whole sauna is completely toast."

"10/10 would do it for the Vine."

Finally picking his jaw up off the floor, Tony stalked over, snatching up a piece of pizza for himself as he demanded, "Are you bonding with a psychotic lowlife, Lewis?! Tell me you are not bonding."

In unison, Darcy and Wade said, "I think calling him that is an insult to the psychotic lowlife community." Their high five was so predestined that they did it without really even thinking about it, the spandex-and-leather-clad merc somehow managing to convey that he was beaming even with half his face covered.

"STEVE! WE HAVE A SUDDEN CASE OF UNWANTED MERCENARY, GET YOUR SPANGLY BUTT OUT HERE AND HELP ME MAKE IT STOP! I think he's corrupting the intern!"

Without missing a beat, she winked. "What's left to corrupt? I already saw your sex tape, Tony."

Hands up over his face, her companion gasped theatrically. "There's a sex tape starring Iron Man and no one told me? That is a serious violation of the bro code." Lifting his gaze to stare at a point on the ceiling which seemed fascinating only to him, he pointed an accusing finger skyward. "You've been holding out on me! Wait, is Stony a thing here, or is he still having that offscreen relationship with Goop? No, no, don't tell me, it's Science Bros for sure! I've always wondered what Brucey's like in the sack!"

Rounding on Tony, managing to out-motormouth a master of the art, his mouth opened in a wide "o" before he continued, "Which version is this, anyway? The one where he ends up hanging out with intergalactic Jeff Goldblum? Jeff Goldblum should be in everything ever, it has to be. So he could totally be a freak in the sheets! None of this weird homage to Fight Club! Who let Ang Lee direct a superhero movie, anyway?"

Since approximately 0.0000005% of this babbling made actual sense or related remotely to what they had been talking about, Tony apparently latched on to what seemed like the subtext here, and snorted. "I'm Iron Man. My sex tape doesn't end up on the internet unless I say it does. Also, I repeat: What the hell is going on here?"

Darcy gave him a crocodile grin, the kind which would make any person who beheld it long for the sweet safety of her _aren't I so innocent_ looks. "I'm working on the 'If You Give A Supe A Paycheck' Initiative, remember? Over pizza. Oh, and Wade kind of tased that one jack-booted thug who keeps grabbing my ass."

Steve peered around the corner just as Tony squawked, "You tased him and didn't give me front row tickets, Lewis? Rude!"

For a moment, the chiseled and earnest face of Captain America paused, taking in the tableau laid out in front of him. Then it began to morph into something else, with mischief bright in wide blue eyes and a telltale boyish smirk tucked into the corners of his perfect mouth. "Sorry, Tony, unless they have more pie, it's not my problem."

Little known fact: Captain America could be kind of an asshole when he wanted to be, especially if it involved giving a certain mechanically armored Avenger a really hard time. Darcy, who had never expected to be working this closely with somebody that her grandma actually had a gigantic crush on back in the day, was always delighted to observe this behavior in the wild. That, and she thought it was hilarious how much he didn't like apple pie.

"Serve me up a slice of that quality beefcake," Wade agreed, as Steve disappeared from view.

There was a pause, during which Darcy waited to see if the information had really sunk in. Then the older man's gaze flicked to the plates which sat discarded, eyes narrowing even further. "Lewis, you heathen, did you finish the pie?"

She shrugged. "I was raised by wolves. Duh."

"I'm gonna kiss you and hug you and squeeze you and call you George!"

Darcy's sentiments exactly.


	2. Open The Pod Bay Doors, Stark

It all started on a Thursday. Distantly, Darcy thought that she should have known trouble would fall on this day, and not just because Thor was often much too pleased with the fact that humans had named a day of the week in his honor. When Thursdays ended in Asgardian partying, it was bad enough, she'd learned over the course of the last month and a half, but when they ended in Tony Stark crashing after his sleep-deprived lunacy of the week took off without him? That was when things went critical.

Really, this was all Jane's fault. Not that she could blame her best friend/boss for apparently demanding that her personal Scientist Wrangler (formally known as assistant, mostly called an intern for old time's sakes) be included in the move to New York. For all its craziness, New York City was a big improvement over constant travel in and out of Norway.

Norway was cold as balls. This was a scientific fact. Not the kind Jane worked with, which all sounded like they belonged in science fiction and which Darcy privately thought of as _Science!_ instead of just science. Just an observable fact, like the fact that her scarf budget had quadrupled and she'd been forced to learn how to read signs written in a language that was absolutely nothing like English.

Norway had taught her that metal bands who added umlauts to random letters had no idea how to pronounce them, and that it was possible to get tired of snowball fights. She hadn't even thought that this was possible, and yet the frozen north had made her really appreciate when they held conferences in warm places.

So when Thor came back from whatever his latest adventure in the multiverse was and S.H.I.E.L.D. offered Jane a position working alongside one of her idols, she'd jumped at the chance. Literally jumped. Coffee had gone everywhere and a Pop Tart was sadly sacrificed to the joyous occasion. Jane had decided to argue that where she went, Darcy went, which was how Darcy had found herself with the security clearance to get into Avengers tower and the ability to ask an AI to help with her grocery list. A lot of it was incredibly cool.

A lot of it, though, was fucking bananas. The Science Bros, as she'd come to call the gang in which Jane worked with Bruce and Tony, had even more of a habit than Dr. Foster alone of sometimes forgetting to eat, sleep, or do anything other than Science! until they collapsed. Or tore another hole in the fabric of the universe. One of the two. The point was: She'd gone from having one scientist to wrangle, to three.

If she didn't do it, Darcy learned on her very first Thursday, then inevitably something would explode. It would, in fact, explode all over her new shoes, forcing her to give them up in case they became a portal to another dimension, send her to the decontamination showers, and ultimately lead to her hanging out in clothing borrowed from Bruce (because he was the only conscious one) while she prayed Tony didn't wake up and catch her hanging out without a bra on.

"What did _I_ miss?" he'd demanded, when he lifted his head from the desk to find Darcy perched on an empty space at the end of a lab bench, coffee cup in hand, in clothes that were too big on her but could not hide her lack of boob support. "Bruce, you hooked up with the hot intern while I was asleep? I'm so offended that you'd do that. I deserve the right to wolf whistle!"

Cutting her eyes over to him, she moved her shoulders in a very deliberate fashion and cocked an eyebrow. "Once you go green, it's like nicotine. You couldn't handle me, Stark."

Bruce promptly choked on his tea.

Tony eyed her, his expression speculative, like he'd never really gotten a good look at her before. It was definitely true that for the last several days, Darcy had mostly been preoccupied with the lab's Pop Tart supply, trying to coax Jane into acting like a functional human, and trying to avoid being glared to death by Nick "This Eyepatch Says I'm A Badass" Fury.

"Points for the rhyme, Betty Boop."

She rolled her eyes, hopping down to go shake Jane out of her slumber. "It's Lewis. Darcy Lewis. World's Greatest Intern, Professional Scientist Wrangler, not here to be ogled by superheroes. Unless you're Captain America. Captain America can look _all_ he wants." Leaning over, she waved the cup of coffee under Jane's nose like old-fashioned smelling salts, grinning when the other woman jolted blearily awake, reaching out for the mug. "And whatever you were doing before you fell asleep, it exploded. So, you owe me a new pair of boots."

Bruce appeared to be trying not to smile into his teacup. He seemed to have recovered from the shock. Tony, on the other hand, continued to watch her, a grin spreading across his face as he stroked his beard like some kind of cartoon villain. "I like you, Lewis. Maybe I'll keep you."

"If you take her I will _end you,_ Tony Stark!" That was enough to snap Jane awake, glaring at him with the full force of her not inconsiderable wrath. "She's _my_ intern. Get your own."

Darcy smirked. "If you're very good, you can ask to borrow me." Half-dragging Jane bodily out of the chair, she held the cup of coffee just out of reach, luring the scientist to her feet and toward the door. "Come on, let's go, you can't Science! if you pass out on top of anything else. And I am not going to fight space aliens or bears from other dimensions when you open another hole in the universe, either. You'll make the hole, fall asleep, and leave me to do the ass-kicking."

"But I'm working!" came the feeble protest, still grabbing for coffee.

"You can come back and play with the other scientists when you've had your nap, Jane."

This was how most days ended: Darcy was forced to employ increasingly creative methods and arguments to coax her favorite physicist out of the lab and into her own bed, while Tony and Bruce looked on amusedly. But her second Thursday actually did end in fighting bears from another dimension, and her _third_ Thursday ended in trying to keep Jane from single-handedly destroying everyone's sleep patterns when an Asgardian-thrown party created the unstoppable two-person whirlwind of Jane and Thor going at it. Luckily, JARVIS agreed with her plan and helped her locate a hose.

Eventually, it became clear that Tony was even worse about sleeping like a person or eating regularly when he got really into a project, and since he owned the building, he was harder to wrangle than Jane. Even Iron Man, however, was susceptible to the power of switching to decaf. When that failed after the third day, Darcy resorted to a variety of other methods, including but not limited to convincing JARVIS to speak in a Jamaican accent until Tony went to bed.

Pushing sandwiches in Bruce's direction was easier, at least. His extreme yoga lifestyle made it harder for him to pout and fight her. He was just so opposed to being taken care of that you had to eat with him, like he was some kind of baby bird.

So really, it was inevitable that Darcy would decide she'd gotten the hang of it. And then the sixth Thursday happened. It was a dark day for every employee of Stark Industries who was not Jane Foster, Tony Stark, or Bruce Banner. On her way in that evening, she overheard no less than six people muttering about how they really should work somewhere else, and one woman saying something about how she should've gone to law school.

The chain of events went like this: First, Jane refused an afternoon nap, making this her forty-eighth straight hour awake. Second, she was sleep-deprived enough to agree when an equally tired and somewhat manic Tony suggested that it would be easier if the coffeemaker was more like JARVIS. Third, Bruce failed to weigh in on this subject, since he didn't drink coffee. Fourth, the decision was made to try and invent a sentient coffeemaker.

Fifth, and finally, it really should have occurred to Tony that not every AI would have Jarvis's sense of humor or adaptability right away. Because the truth was, he and Jane had just made a machine that by definition worked with boiling steam and incredibly hot water self-aware. Oh, and they'd also decided to praise the newly christened Java 9000 for delivering unto them the lifeblood of intellectuals, caffeine.

Who named an AI after a supercomputer that literally tried to kill everyone, anyway? It was one step away from calling the thing Skynet and pretending it wasn't going to turn on its human overlords. Seriously.

By the time Darcy got into the lab, Bruce was looking dangerously green around the gills, Jane had one hand wrapped in a towel full of ice thanks to unexpected coffee burns, and Tony was trying to coax the coffeemaker down while it went on an ego trip about how they all needed it so much.

"I was only gone for an hour!" she hissed, stalking over to where the so-called genius was trying to hold a conversation with his autodrip about world domination. "Can't I leave for an hour to shop without you two unleashing a coffee pot supervillain on Manhattan?! I hate _Science!_ so much right now."

Reaching around the cloud of ominous steam pouring out of Java 9000, she yanked it away from the wall, unplugging it in one swift motion. The blinking display fell away, along with any and all rhetoric about how humanity would bow to a new caffeinated world order. "Don't tell me none of you thought to unplug it?"

Three so-called geniuses exchanged sheepish looks. Now that the infernal machine was definitely off, Bruce was back to a more normal complexion, exhaling slow breaths before he looked from the appliance in Darcy's hands to her face and back. "This is Tony we're talking about. He might have tried to engineer around that just for fun."

Darcy rolled her eyes hugely. "You always leave a way to shut down the supercomputer, just in case it goes evil and tries to take over the world! Have movies and comic books taught you nothing?"

In the seat she'd perched on, Jane's expression began to droop. "It seemed like a good idea, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, and so did exploring every creepy planet where it turns out there are aliens that jump out of your chest or try to mount your head over their fireplace, but it never ever ends well! Everyone already can't work the espresso machine, why would you make it harder for me to get coffee?!" She let out a long sigh. "JARVIS, where's the nearest hammer?"

"In Mr. Stark's private garage, Miss Lewis."

"What?" Tony squawked, jumping up. "You can't go in my workshop, and you definitely aren't using a hammer to ruin my masterpiece!"

Quietly, Darcy resisted the urge to bang her head into the nearest wall. She liked her head. She needed her brain cells. Brain cells didn't grow back. She especially needed brain cells in this line of work. You never knew when alien space bears would interrupt your lunch, or your boss would accidentally make a supervillain. "The coffeemaker is evil. Eeeeeeviiiilllllll. I don't care if you sold your firstborn to make it, I'm gonna go smash it with a hammer, and you're not gonna get in my way. Or I'll call Pepper and tell her you almost made us slaves to a race of superintelligent coffeemakers instead of going the fuck to sleep."

There was a very pregnant pause. "I take it back. You're not my favorite intern any more, Lewis."

"Lies and slander, I'm everybody's favorite because I am a fucking delight." Turning, she settled her gaze on Bruce and jerked her head toward the door. "Hey Professor, wanna help me smash it?"

For a moment it looked like Bruce didn't know whether to laugh or cry, facial expression caught between them somewhere in the realms of total disbelief. Then he broke into a wide, genuine smile, amusement written all over his features. "I guess that is my specialty, huh?"

"Damn straight." Darcy nodded, turning to point an accusing finger at Jane and Tony in turn. "If you two aren't in bed in the next 20 minutes I'm getting JARVIS to find me another hose, and I will herd you there personally. Do I make myself clear?"

Both of them nodded, with varying degrees of wide-eyed fear on their faces.

"Good. Let's go, Dr. Jekyll." Tucking the Java 9000 under one arm, she marched off out of the lab, pleased to see that Bruce was in fact following her. He'd even let out a distinct chuckle at the sound of the nickname she'd decided to assign him. Okay, it was a little on the nose, but she couldn't help herself.

Half an hour later, JARVIS reported that Dr. Foster and the Tin Man were both safely in their rooms. The fiendish coffeemaker lay in ruins on the workshop floor, Bruce looked like he'd worked off some stress breaking it to pieces, and Darcy was wondering if they could work in "smash it with a hammer" as a workplace-wide program for calming down after their resident mad scientists did something crazy. Or just in general. Avengers tower was a wild place to work.

Half an hour after that, the world's most humorless pirate captain caught up to her in the hallway. "I hear you've learned to keep Foster, Stark and Banner from blowing any more shit up than necessary, Lewis." Fury's cold gaze settled on her as he turned his head to look. "I appreciate the amount of paperwork I won't be doing now that the children are behaving."

What she meant to do was thank the director for giving her what had to be the first compliment she'd received from him. Unfortunately, what came out of her mouth was, "When they blow shit up, I'm the one who has to deal with the space bears and the evil coffeemakers. I just didn't want to ruin my new boots."

It looked, for one terrifying second, like Fury might crack a smile. This would obviously have been a sign of the apocalypse, not to mention an omen of horrific things to come, so Darcy was grateful that he did not lose his stoic composure as he regarded her, then nodded. "We could use your skill set, you know."

Oh no. Definitely not. Jane's head would explode, it would take way too long to put her sciencey brain back together and stop her from comfort eating a whole box of Pop Tarts at a time. Not since the last time they'd ended up in a Ben and Jerry's coma over alien boyfriends who stopped in our dimension and didn't even say hello had this been allowed to happen and Darcy would be damned if she let it happen again.

"No way. You can't make me join the jack-booted thug brigade. I work with Jane, there's a contract and everything. I know my rights, Eyepatch Man."

The look Fury gave her made her wonder if Siberia was warm this time of year. "I have no intention of taking you away from Dr. Foster. That many unattended scientists would be a fucking disaster." He paused for effect. "However, S.H.I.E.L.D. are prepared to give you a few more people to attend to… have you met all of the Avengers yet?"

Whoa. Darcy's eyes went wide. "You want me to babysit Captain America? Holy shit."

His expression twitched slightly, a sinister kind of amusement sparking in his eye. "Trust me, Lewis. Steve Rogers is going to be the least of your problems."


	3. Lies, Damn Lies, And Avengers

Locking eyes with the poor woman on the other side of the counter, the silent female 'get me out of here' signal in full strength, Darcy cursed viciously under her breath. At this rate, she'd never get that new office chair, they were going to be descended upon by half a dozen terrifying S.H.I.E.L.D. lawyers, and Captain America was going to single-handedly deal a death blow to their country's relationship with Sweden.

Nick Fury was a dirty liar, and Steve Rogers? Yeah, Steve Rogers was absolutely not the least of her problems. In fact, right now he was number one on her list.

This was amazing for many reasons, including but not limited to: The fact that Thor was standing right next to him, contributing to the terrorization of salespeople, the conspicuous figure cut by Tony Stark as he eyed a bed-shaped sofa while writing down design notes, the fact that nobody had seen Clint Barton for at least half an hour so he was probably hanging out on the ceiling, and what was probably an iminent manslaughter charge if Natasha kept talking to the cashier.

Right now, the only Avengers who didn't make her want to scream either weren't present (because Sam had a life and Soviet Robocop wasn't big on crowds), or were named Bruce Banner.

"Bruce," Darcy said, turning to where the man was sitting, eating frozen yogurt placidly while the destruction raged, "you are my favorite. I'm officially Team Green. You're clearly the only one of them who's _sane_ and if I didn't think you'd pass out I would absolutely kiss you right now."

Spoonful halfway to his mouth, Bruce paused, blinking owlishly at her. Then his mouth quirked. "If I'm the sane guy here, we're all in trouble."

Of course, this was the exact moment when Jane returned from perusing Swedish candies and spotted Dr. Cho, who was leaning against the counter and gazing adoringly up at Thor. Thor, who was the humanoid equivalent of a superpowered golden retriever, flashed her a smile every now and then between meatballs. To the casual not-Jane observer, it looked like a starstruck scientist realizing how abnormally friendly Norse gods were. (Or aliens from another dimension, whichever – nobody could ever seem to give her a straight answer on which it was.)

To the observer who was Jane, on the other hand, it clearly looked like Helen was getting her flirt on and Thor was being… Thor, so he didn't stop her. If the thunderous look which had just passed over the physicist's face was anything to go by. Darcy buried her face in her hands.

"Not only are you the sane one here Bruce, you're the one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind. No offense to… actual blind people, but we're it. We're the ones standing between these people and total chaos." She let out a quiet groan. "Would it be treason if I tased Captain America?"

Setting his spoon down, Bruce offered her a crooked smile. "I'm sure Coulson could come up with some loophole about this being Swedish soil. But uh, is that Plan A?"

"Plan A was 'take the Avengers to IKEA, what could possibly go wrong?' Face it, Jekyll, we're totally doomed."

It had seemed like such a good plan when Darcy had come up with it three days ago. The Science Bros were all going to some Science! extravaganza in the city, where nearly everyone around her spoke fluent math and if she tried to keep up with the conversations she'd strain something before long. Really, though, she'd accepted that she would never be able to follow all the scientific technobabble – she was the one who'd fixed the new coffeemaker on Monday in record time, and she was the one who kept New York's craziest trio of geniuses fed and watered.

So she hadn't _really_ expected to get the reaction she did when she wound up in conversation with Helen Cho and had to interrupt her commentary on Jane's research (because Darcy was filed under "Darcy comma Jane's" for eternity) with the first thing that popped into her head. This time, it was, "The only thing I know about wormholes is that I almost ran over Thor when he fell out of one, and then I had to tase him, too."

Helen's eyes widened. "I'd heard that Dr. Foster was in contact with Thor, but do you know him as well?"

That look was a classic. It had ended up on a lot of women's faces, and for a lot of obvious reasons. Thor was gigantic, cut as hell, either a god or a really cool alien depending on who you asked, and most importantly, so incredibly sincere that it sometimes hurt. Asgardians had probably invented chivalry.

Darcy opened her mouth to try and spare the good doctor's feelings, but what actually came out of it instead was, "Oh yeah, you should've seen how excited he got when this old lady on the subway told him about IKEA. Don't ask me how he knew Swedish, though, I think it's some kind of alien Babelfish thing."

And then, purely because she was tired of the male-to-female ratio in Avengers tower, she eyed the excited look on Helen's face before adding, "Have you ever thought about joining Tony's little Science Squad? I don't know what half their equipment does but apparently it rocks. _And…_ if you come hang out with us, I'll totally let you come along when we actually take Thor to the furniture store of his Northern homeland."

A soft smile formed on Helen's lips. "I was under the impression Thor was Norse."

"Norway, Sweden, either way they're cold and use too many umlauts." Darcy waved a hand airily and turned to scan the crowd. "Come on, let me introduce you to Jane."

Originally, the plan was simple: Take Thor to IKEA, marvel at his childlike wonder. Bring Dr. Cho along for the ride so that she could bask in the glory that was Thor's delight over everything. Convince badass female scientist to join the Science Squad, therefore outnumbering Tony when Darcy was in the room and also recruiting another sane person to their ranks. Not only was it a great recruitment pitch, it was also downright perfect.

Then Tony found out about the trip. Clint was lurking in the air vents like a ninja, so he heard too. He told Natasha, who told Steve, who told Jane. And finally, Jane convinced Bruce to come too, because despite his nervousness in public places, she was a difficult woman to argue with. Suddenly, Darcy was staring down the barrel of almost all the Avengers tagging along on this outing, because apparently, the idea of seeing Thor loose in IKEA appealed to crazy people across the board.

By the time Fury found out, Darcy was seriously considering stealing Tony's credit card, claiming to be his illegitimate daughter, and relocating to Australia.

"Don't fuck it up," was his advice, eye fixed sharply on her.

At first, it went spectacularly well. The only person who could pronounce half the names of things was Thor, with Natasha coming in close second. Clint was absolutely hopeless, and Tony was pretending he liked expensive things too much to be intrigued by the merchandise until they found the spinny chairs, at which point it all became a game. Bruce was even talked into sitting on one, though he refused to be spun. There was a very real possibility the Avengers were secretly five.

Helen and Jane were looking at glassware and discussing whether or not they could buy some to bring home and mess with Tony, a course of action that Darcy one hundred percent approved of.

The wild card in all of this, as it turned out, was Steve Rogers. Which was funny, because on the surface, Steve was the most earnest person alive. He gave Thor a run for his money. His baby blues said 'I read to blind orphans and rescue kittens from treetops' every time they went wide with innocence. He tagged along inspecting furniture shapes good-naturedly, even made a joke about buying a terrible premade painting for his bedroom.

But underneath all that? He was a little bit of an asshole.

First, he took on Tony's spinning speed challenge, and spun him so fast that he nearly threw up all over Darcy's shoes. Only her best glare kept it from happening. There was no way Iron Man was going to have to owe her two, since he kept forgetting to replace the last ones that had gotten exploded on.

Then, he asked Clint if he could hide in these rafters, with such an open, friendly expression that it didn't even cross the archer's mind to question his challenge. Five minutes later, Barton had disappeared and was calling down to Natasha from various points in the ceiling about whether or not he should drop loose change on anyone.

The worst, by far, however, was when Thor discovered the restaurant counter. After Bruce had successfully obtained frozen yogurt, Steve immediately pointed out the existence of Swedish meatballs. Somehow, this led to he and Thor both buying some, which in turn led somehow to another challenge. But this time, it had nothing to do with dizziness, and everything to do with eating every meatball in the entire store.

"I'm sorry, sir, I just don't think we have any more," the nervous looking woman manning the counter told Steve. She had 'oh God I'm letting down Captain America' face, which was hilarious, since Darcy was pretty sure that Captain America thought it was funnier if the store ran out.

Thor polished off his umpteenth plate of meatballs. Natasha struck up a conversation with a cashier who looked equal parts attracted and terrified, to the point where he began to slowly look like a heart attack in progress. Clint lurked in the ceiling like a weirdo and called things down to total strangers. Tony started taking down serious ideas, staring at rows of unusually shaped plastic bar stools. And Steve… Steve offered to buy pre-frozen meatballs and get the woman working the restaurant to heat them up, because they couldn't declare a winner otherwise.

So of course the only one not doing something potentially dangerous was Bruce. And of course, Jane and Helen were about to get into it over flirting with beefcake Norse gods who had girlfriends.

This was Darcy's life now.

"You might want to stand back," she told Bruce, squaring her shoulders as she marched over to the counter, planting herself between the two female scientists in time to prevent catastrophe. Over by the registers, Natasha broke off her attempts to drive a poor man insane and turned to look.

"Jane, for Thor's sake, there are actual epic poems written to your beauty floating around Asgard. If you take your eye off blonde and stormy for five minutes, I'm sure there'll be another one on its way about your elbow or something. Take a chill pill, or I will tase you. And Helen," she rounded on the other scientist, who was watching her warily, "I'd say tell Jane you're not here scheming to take him away, but this is honestly too stupid for me! Come on. Skip the catfight and go back to trying to invent time travel."

"...you've been working on time travel?" asked Helen quietly.

Jane blinked, taken off-guard, then nodded. A wise choice. "If it's possible to move between points in the universe that are vastly separated, I don't see why we couldn't also move in time along with space. It's just a theory, of course."

Good. Science! talk. Darcy's work there was done. Which left the other, bigger problems to deal with. Chiefly, the fact that Steve Rogers should have known better than to terrorize the Swedes. "Steven! For shame. The nice lady told you they were out of meatballs, and you're going to lay off, or so help me I am going to sneak into your room in the middle of the night with Clint's help and bedazzle the _fuck_ out of your uniform."

He gave her his best aw-shucks face. "Understood, ma'am."

Wiping the last of the sauce out of his mustache, Thor looked at her curiously and asked, "What is this 'bedazzling' of which you speak, Lady Darcy? Is this some sort of Midgardian badge of shame?"

There was still an archer in the rafters, a Russian assassin on the loose, and a billionaire about to be sued for copyright infringement. Priorities. Darcy had to remain focused, no matter how badly she wanted to see the look on Thor's face when she actually explained what bedazzling was. No matter how she wanted to ask if she could decorate his cape, duty called. Duty sometimes blew.

"I'll show you later," she promised, and then tipped her head straight up. "Clint, if you don't get down here in the next minute, I'm sending Natasha that video of you table-dancing in New Mexico."

Distantly, there was a squawk of protest.

Getting the Russian member of their contingent corraled was always the most difficult to attempt. Natasha could smell manipulation a mile away, read people well enough to be basically a human lie detector, and knew how to kill somebody with a potted plant. She was as badass as she was terrifying, and she knew it. So usually, Darcy didn't even try to trick or bully her. She went with a simpler approach.

"Hey Nat, I'll give you twenty bucks if you help me steal Tony's Starkpad when he's not looking."

The redhead looked her up and down, assessing, then smirked and nodded. "Piece of cake."

Quietly, the one-eyed man in the kingdom of the blind finished his frozen yogurt, while an IKEA employee muttered quietly about finishing college and Thor, bless him, ordered a sundae.

When she got back to the tower, Darcy was going to give Eyepatch Man an earful, and she didn't care how long he tried lighting her on fire with the power of his mind. If Steve Rogers was the best behaved member of the Avengers, then she was the queen of Sheba.


	4. It's A Red-Letter Day

"I Can't Believe I Was There, And That Happened" could totally be the title to one of the volumes of Darcy's autobiography. Today's edition started when she was waylaid on her morning coffee run by an idiot who was clearly no criminal mastermind, if he was gonna try and nab her purse this close to Avengers territory. Especially because Darcy came armed with a taser and a serious stubborn streak.

One minute, she was yanking determinedly on the purse straps while also trying to pry said taser free, and the next, the idiot in question looked up above her head, his eyes going wide. There was a split second where she wondered if her hair was on fire, and then a pair of spandex-clad feet collided with his shoulders, sending him toppling to the sidewalk.

"Didn't your mother teach you manners?" A moment later, the criminal found himself stuck in place, his wrists and ankles webbed to the concrete. Spiderman turned in midair and came to a stop perched against the nearest storefront, masked face tipped down as though he were looking at her.

What she meant to do was thank him, but somehow, what came out of Darcy's mouth was, "What if he doesn't have a mother? That's some seriously exclusionary language, dude!"

The noise which Spiderman made at the back of his throat could only be described as a choked kind of laugh, even as he put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, sorry! You're welcome, by the way!"

"Are you _sassing_ me right now? I know you can see down my top from up there, too, so don't even try to pretend you're being innocent." Maybe it was just second nature by now, but she put her hands on her hips, taser plainly in view. "Besides, I totally had that handled. I once tased the god of thunder – I fear no man."

Head cocked to one side, he seemed to be studying her, like he was trying to figure out if she was being serious. Then he asked incredulously, "You tased _Thor_?!"

Nodding emphatically, Darcy decided it was safe enough to put her weapon away for now. She wasn't too worried that Spiderman would try anything, because presumably he knew that Earth's mightiest heroes could turn him into a smear on somebody's windshield if he did. Besides, as long as you didn't read the weird hatchet jobs he sometimes got in the papers, he was supposedly a pretty good guy.

"Technically, I also hit him with a car. But I've always blamed Jane for that one, since she hit him with a car again later. New Mexico was weird, is what I'm saying." The laughter cascading down seemed to indicate that her tendency to stick her foot directly into her mouth wasn't having too much of an effect on his opinion of her, so she pointed down the block and asked, "Do you accept thank you lattes?"

This was how Darcy found herself sitting across the table from Spiderman, having coffee in her favorite little cafe near work. Today, she had a snowflake drawn in the foam at the top of her coffee, while her companion had gotten a spider in his, a fact that had nearly compelled her to steal it before she remembered this was supposed to be a good deed. She also wasn't at all sure how this was happening, but she was comforted by the fact that he didn't seem to know either.

"Do you know all the Avengers, or just Thor?" he asked, when he'd tugged the bottom half of his mask up far enough to drink. They were getting stares, which judging by his hunched shoulders, bothered him more than it did her.

Tapping a fingertip on her lower lip, Darcy shook her head. "Uh-uh. We do a question for a question or no dice, Webhead. Don't worry, I won't ask anything embarrassing, like how you deal with chafing problems, because some mysteries? I do not need to have revealed to me."

Now she could add 'made Spiderman choke on a mocha latte' to her personal accomplishments list.

"That's nice of you," he said, when he could breathe again. "So do you know them?"

"Speaking of mysteries you don't need a big reveal on. Let me tell you, Tony Stark is a shameless popcorn thief, which is ridiculous because he could literally just pay someone to invent a machine to poof popcorn into existence. Actually no, that's a really bad idea, I take that back, he'd try to invent it himself, and then it would achieve sentience on a steady path to world domination. Trust me. After the coffeemaker, he is not allowed to invent new appliances."

Pausing to filter through what she could probably afford to tell him, she rolled her eyes and added, "Hawkeye is a complete busybody. You have to pretty much assume that at any second, he could be chilling in the vents with a beer and a dart gun, listening to you talk. Black Widow's about as terrifying as you'd expect, but Captain America? Oh, let me tell you – Captain America is the country's biggest undiscovered secret troll. They say don't ever meet your heroes but _boy,_ if you're super into his whole schtick then don't ever hang out with him."

"What about the Hulk?"

Darcy set her cup down, shaking her head. "Nope, my turn. However you got your superpowers, were you just like, super happy you weren't born a girl? 'Cause I can imagine the wind resistance on boobs would be killer."

Apparently, she could now also add 'made Spiderman accidentally snort said mocha latte out his nose' to her list of all-time great efforts. "I hadn't really thought about it, but now I am! So… what about the Hulk?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Nice guy. Shy, sometimes, but in that way where some people are fine until they realize you're paying attention to them." It wasn't exactly what most people might've expected to hear when they found out you'd met a superhero whose power boiled down to 'get giant, green and angry while things get smashed', but to Spiderman's credit, he didn't seem to think it needed commenting on.

Half an hour later, when she finally got back to the tower and distributed coffee, she had decided Spiderman was definitely an all right dude. Or at least, looked so hilarious snorting latte out of his nose that she would reserve judgment on his heroic deeds until a later date.

So of course, today wasn't done throwing her for a loop. It took her three steps into the tower's common area to spot the problem, or more accurately, to spot the problem presented by another person clad in red spandex lounging on the giant, Avengers-sized sofa, two boxes of pizza resting at his elbow.

"Is there like, a non-Avengers New York City superhero dress code, or something? Do you all have to wear red?" Darcy was pretty sure she'd spotted a non-Spiderman hero running around midtown one time, and his costume had some kind of ears or horns on the helmet. And now, there was this guy, who looked like he was perfectly at home, which was weird, because she would've remembered him.

"On Wednesdays we wear pink!" New Unidentified Stranger said brightly, jumping to his feet so that he could hold out a gloved hand to her. "Pool. Dead."

Deadpool. That rang a distant bell. There had definitely been something in the orientation manual about keeping him way the hell away from the premises at all costs, something about him being dangerous, unstable and prone to unpredictable levels of violence. That, or Tony just really didn't like him, it was hard to tell sometimes. The reason half the X-Men and Reed Richards were barred by security totally boiled down to his whiny man-ego.

"Lewis. Darcy." She shook his hand carefully. "What kind of pizza is that? And know that if your answer displeases me, I will absolutely tase your ass."

Despite not being able to see his face behind the mask, it definitely looked like he was directing a grin at her, somehow. "Pineapple and japaleño. The pizza of kings."

"Very well. Your offering pleases me, you may pass unharmed." Actually, now that she thought about it, there was definitely leftover pie in the refrigerator to go along with this feast. Darting over to retrieve it while Deadpool sat on the kitchen island, feet swinging wildly, she raised her eyebrows at him and asked, "You totally just wanted to break into Tony's living room and see what faces he makes at pineapple on pizza, didn't you?"

"Already, our minds are becoming one." His Antonio Banderas impression needed work.

"Split it with me, and I won't tell him you're here til he comes down for lunch. I wanna see the look on his face too."


	5. For The Birds

Not taking Tony's offer to move into the tower full-time, Darcy sometimes thought, had been a mistake. At the time, she'd just wanted a place where she could walk around in her underwear and not worry about being interrupted by superheroes who had serious boundary problems, or keep a well-stocked stash of junk food without having to beat men with hyperactive metabolisms off with a stick. Thor had once tried to take the last Pop Tart and discovered it was a literal stick.

SHIELD had been great when it came to finding her a studio apartment a manageable distance away. Given that there was no way she could have afforded the place without selling both her kidneys under normal circumstances, she could only assume they owned the building, and that all her neighbors were probably also employees. The hipster couple across the hall had tried to sell her on vegan carrot cake, but they were nice enough.

The problem with not living where she worked was, well, that sometimes between the subway stop and her apartment building, the fact that she was a danger magnet reared its ugly head. Darcy had made her peace with the fact that unusual things could and would always happen near her, but sometimes? Sometimes it was annoying. Sometimes, it sent her into a state somewhere between terrified and furious.

Sometimes, you were a block from home, when danger shuffled around the corner and began slicing at pedestrians with razor-sharp wingtips before launching itself into the air. Sometimes, Dr. Doom decided to be a complete and total asshole. "Penguins don't fly! If you're gonna be a corny jerkoff, be consistent!"

Scrambling backward, Darcy seized hold of the taser in her purse first, hands shaking as she tried to hold it steady. Overhead, penguin-shaped Doombots were wreaking havoc on the street lights and power lines, sending one crashing downward toward her as she was forced to dive out of the way.

"Get away from me. I mean it. I'll tase you until you wish you'd been made into a Cylon-shaped toaster, birdbrain!" The quaver in her voice undercut the threat, but as one lunged for her, wings outstretched, she managed to pull the trigger in time.

The Penguinbot fell to the sidewalk, twitching. As one, every other bot in her line of sight wheeled around, diving or waddling in her direction. "Oh, come on! Don't you have anything better to do! Aren't you supposed to be like, reversing street signs and stealing left socks?"

Knees trembling, Darcy barely managed to duck and roll out of the way of the oncoming swarm. This was not what her combat training with Natasha was supposed to be for. And she hadn't even really progressed past the point where she was letting the Widow turn her into a walking bruise yet! Muscle memory or no, she was very, very bad at actual fighting, possibly because her figure was just not suited to the combat arts.

One of them had shredded her sleeve on the way past. She'd liked this jacket! "You're such assholes! And so is Dr. Doom! Do you hear me? DR. DOOM IS A CLOTHING-RUINING ASSHOLE!"

Faintly, she noticed the note of hysteria climbing into her voice, but she had to think through this, she couldn't just. Cower in the street, not when Penguinbots further away were clearly wreaking havoc on traffic and Thor knew what else. She was Darcy Lewis. She had once tased the god of thunder. She feared no man _or_ machine.

This was some Alfred Hitchcock bullshit. Ducking out of the way of yet another aerial assault, she kicked out and managed to land a solid blow on the nearest advancing Penguinbot, sending it flying backward. Not much of a victory, but she'd take it.

Wait, she had a weapon for this. _She had a weapon for this._

Part of the agreement wherein Tony Stark was not allowed to rework Darcy's taser to surpass things which would render it 'no longer street legal' and 'capable of killing a man' was not only getting Natasha to teach her some defensive techniques, but a round of training alongside her and Clint both with something a little more nonlethal.

The baton snapped out to full length in her hand as Darcy dropped her purse to the sidewalk for now and swung around, hearing steel collide with steel as three more went wheeling over backwards. These little bastards didn't have kneecaps, but they had to have a weakness _someplace._ Maybe if she aimed at where their wings met their bodies…?

"Jesus fuck, this city is insane!" A woman's voice came from behind her, rough with annoyance. As Darcy turned to look, her gaze fell on a brunette in a leather jacket who jumped up to snatch one of the Penguinbots out of midair. It struggled against her grip, until she ripped its head off and tossed both pieces to the ground. "The hell do I look like, Captain America? This is not my job!"

As the woman ran past her, she paused, gaze flicking over Darcy. "You look like you're about to pass out," she remarked, expression managing to convey that she was thoroughly unimpressed.

Raising her baton to knock more of the irritating things away before they could tear her to ribbons, Darcy got out through gritted teeth, "I really don't like penguins!"

Midway through stomping one of the bots into tin foil, the woman snorted. "Penguins? Really? Who's afraid of penguins?"

It wasn't a rational fear, Darcy knew. Everyone probably had one thing that scared them as much as penguins had always bothered her, though they were able to put it down to a slightly more rational cause. She'd never jumped away from spiders or other bugs, which was good considering the amount of time she'd spent in the desert, even if Jane hated arachnids and made her do the daily shoe-checking ritual back in the day. It was just that penguins didn't seem right.

To her childish brain, they had always seemed like they were up to something. Maybe it was that they looked like they were wearing clothing. Maybe it was the unnatural way they waddled, and didn't ever take to the air. An ostritch or an emu was logical to be afraid of because they genuinely could kill you, but penguins joined that category in Darcy's mind. They were not to be trusted, and now a city full of penguins was trying to take her out. She was vindicated.

As usual, her mind ran away with her mouth, and what she said in response was, "Anybody who's ever seen Danny De Vito with flippers is afraid of penguins! Now come on, put up or shut up!" Knocking one of the bots into a telephone pole afforded her enough time to drive the point of the baton down through its little mechanical brain, stopping it for good.

Superwoman stopped long enough to dig a flask out of her pocket, take a long swig, and nod. "You knock 'em to me, I can take 'em down and leave 'em that way."

Between the two of them, they managed to clear the swarm which had taken over the street with surprising efficiency. Superwoman, or whatever her real name was, had enough strength that once or twice when a Penguinbot tried to get away, she simply jumped _off_ the top of a parked car and slammed it headlong into the wall of the nearest building. And when they hit the ground, they didn't get back up.

Darcy even managed to take a wing or two off the bots, which sent them into a death spiral that her new partner in crime fighting could use to her advantage. The whole time, she maintained an look bearing varying degrees of annoyance. Between that and the flask, she made it pretty clear that she wasn't the kind of person who liked having to get up to heroics. Given what that'd do to a normal person's wardrobe bill, she couldn't say she blamed the woman.

"I'm Darcy," she offered, when they had finally stopped, breathing heavily. "Darcy Lewis." The swarm of Penguinbots elsewhere were being taken out by the Avengers, if the distant sound of thunder was any indication. Thor no doubt thought this was an excellent game. Maybe they'd even gotten Falcon to show up and fight his bird brethren.

"Did I ask?" the woman answered her, eyebrows raised, but didn't immediately retreat. Instead, she took another long swig from her flask, then stuffed it back into a pocket and walked over to stick a hand out. "Jessica Jones."

That name rang a bell, from a little while back. Something about the wariness in Jessica's eyes said she was hoping that Darcy didn't connect the dots, though, so instead she smiled, shook her hand and said, "I don't live too far, if you want to come along. You helped save my ass, the least I can do is pour you a drink."

For a moment, the wariness deepened in that gaze, before her mouth turned down and she shrugged. "As long as you don't want to braid my hair and talk about boys. I don't go in for that shit."

Picking her purse back up, Darcy kept the baton out just in case for now, stepping around the twitching remains of a Penguinbot as she led the way to her apartment building. Jessica followed along behind her, hands stuck in her pockets, managing to look both gun-shy and like she absolutely dared anyone to say something about it all at once.

Oh! This was the woman who'd made the papers not too long ago for taking out that crazy mind controlling villain, wasn't she? He'd had some name that said 'I want to sound edgy without putting any effort in', what was it… Kilgrave sounded right. They'd had to argue that she'd killed him in self-defense because he had other people hostage or something. All of which sounded like it'd be enough to make anyone drink.

She knew that particular look now that she'd recognized it. Sometimes, when Clint had to interact with SHIELD agents who didn't know enough about him, they treated him badly and he got this faraway look in his eyes. It was like watching someone put up a front and be vulnerable at the exact same time, because they'd been somewhere they never wanted to go again. It was enough to make Darcy want to punch Loki in the face if he ever showed up again (she didn't for a second believe he was actually gone).

"The hair-braiding and boy-talking involves tequila, Ben and Jerry's, and sometimes convincing Thor that if he wants to partake in our Earthly female bonding rituals he should also have his toenails painted. He likes it a lot more than you'd think." She couldn't help but grin at the snort that got out of her companion. "My best friend's dating Thor, so he gets invited to girls' night more than you'd think. For our purposes, though… I think ass-kicking calls for whiskey."

One glass of whiskey, once they'd settled inside the apartment, didn't feel nearly sufficient for the occasion of almost dying at the flippers of killer robotic penguins. "If you want another round, I can tell you about the time I convinced Jarvis to speak total gibberish just so I could show up the next day and say 'It's okay, I speak jive'."

By the time three glasses had been consumed even Jessica, who clearly had a liver of steel, was loosening up enough to laugh openly at her stories. It made Darcy's heart warm, to see the armor slide down just a tiny bit. Oh, she still swore like a sailor and proclaimed twice that this didn't make them friends or anything, but she didn't care. She'd win the prickly woman over eventually.

"How did you not end up dead, exactly? Even I know you don't fuck with Nick Fury," Jessica was saying, after another round of anecdotes, though from her attentive gaze Darcy knew she was hanging on every word.

"I told him that I was wearing an eyepatch in honor of Talk Like A Pirate Day, and also because I wanted to celebrate his visionary fashion choices. He gave me a look that could peel paint, and then..." She choked on a laugh. "Then he told me to inform him before I celebrated it next year, so that he could prepare accordingly. And no one would believe me if I told them!"

Finishing the contents of her glass, Jessica snorted audibly. "You're right. I don't believe you."

At that exact moment, a flurry of knocking on her front door began. Sliding off the sofa, Darcy hurried to answer it, as the knocking became more and more insistent. By the time she was undoing the deadbolt, she could hear someone on the other side saying, "If you're home, get out here, now!"

The door swung inward to reveal Natasha standing on her doorstep, hand on one hip. "Lewis. The city was invaded by Dr. Doom and an army of robots, and you don't answer your phone?"

Meekly, Darcy offered, "Sorry. I forgot to check it when I got home. I kind of got sidetracked trying not to get killed by the Penguinbots, and then I met Jessica, and we kicked their collective asses, so I offered her a drink… or three… I was going to tell you guys I was fine. Honest."

Natasha leaned around her, to take in the figure of Jessica propped up on the sofa, pouring herself another whiskey, and then settled her gaze on Darcy again. For just a moment, she let all of her considerable attention come to bear on the shorter woman, just enough to make her point, and then relented, dropping into a noticeably more relaxed posture. "You're lucky I convinced Jane to send me. The boys wanted to roll in guns blazing."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself. I even helped take out all the Penguinbots who came after me, and all I needed was an assist from a badass lady. Someday they'll all realize that."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, but the corners of her mouth twitched in faint amusement. Striding into the apartment with all the confidence of a woman who assumes no one will have the nerve to throw her out of one again, she dropped down onto the sofa and nodded to the other woman. "Natasha Romanoff. And you are?"

Darcy busied herself finding a third glass, while Jessica looked Nat over, clearly assessing what kind of threat the spy posed to her. Really, it was like they were both doing the same to the other, a fact that was enough to warm her too. Her new friend had her own things to be wary of, no doubt, but Jessica seemed to be trying to work out if this woman was safe just as Nat wanted to know if this woman could be trusted.

The standoff ended when she stuck out a hand. "Jessica Jones."

Watching them shake on it, Darcy handed Nat a glass and settled in. "I was just telling her the Talk Like A Pirate Day story. I totally think this year, we should get the whole building to dress up, and if it goes sideways, you can just all say that it was my idea. I survived once before, after all!"

Sipping at her whiskey, Jessica laughed. "Take pictures. Please, please take pictures."

Clapping her on the shoulder, Natasha's gaze achieved a steely glint that seemed suddenly all-too-mischievous. "I can think of a few things we can do to go along with that."

It occurred to Darcy as the plan began to unfold before her that she would never again underestimate which of the Avengers was capable of causing the most chaos if sufficiently motivated.


End file.
